Halfway Out of The Dark
by Blue TARDIS Everdeen
Summary: Kid Sherlock and Kid John. With some Doctor Who characters. If convenient, read. If inconvenient, read anyway. Could be amazing.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: This is my first attempt at Kid!Lock. I hope I do it justice. I picture Asa Butterfield from Hugo as Kid!Sherlock, and I picture the kid who played Young Kazran Sardick in Doctor Who as Kid!John. This story is from different characters' points of view. I'll let you figure out who they are at a funeral for. I'm not telling! ;) If convenient, review. If inconvenient, review anyway. Could be dangerous. **

**Blue TARDIS Everdeen**

**Halfway Out of the Dark**

I don't see why everyone is getting so sentimental. I mean, it's just a dull funeral. Everybody knows that everybody dies. I see my mother, dressed in all black, embracing another woman. She is in all black as well, but one thing stands out about her. It's her hair. It's as red as the leaves on the trees in autumn. There's another woman standing next to her, her arm around the red-haired woman's waist; as if to support her. The woman has tears in her green eyes; threatening to spill out. Her hair is just as strange as the other's; her hair is a golden blonde, curled into tight ringlets. I hear my mother whispering words back and forth to the women; words of comfort, I think. I walk over to my mother; as soon as she sees me, she lets go of the red-haired woman and hugs me instead. She rubs the back of my head, saying:

"Oh it's a shame. It's a real shame."

I pull away and ask: "What's a shame, mother?"

She smiles through her tears and hugs me again. "Nothing Sherlock. I was merely talking to myself."

* * *

><p>"There." My mum says, after straightening my bowtie. "Turn around, John dear. Let me see the whole picture." I turn around, my arms straight down on my sides. When I turn back around to face Mum, she beams and says: "You look just like your father. He would be so proud of you." She hugged me then; her voice shaking as she whispered, "I know I am." She kissed me on the forehead. "Now," she said, straightening. "Go and get your sister. We're going to leave soon." I nod my head and go up the stairs to the room that my sister Harry and I (unfortunately) share.<p>

"Harry, Mum wants to know if you're ready yet!" I yell through the door.

"Hold on, John. I'm coming!" She yelled back. I rolled my eyes, leaning up against the door. After what seemed like AGES, she finally came out. I burst out laughing.

"Oh, you look like a fat old monkey!" I fell over, laughing harder.

"Hey! You look funny too!" She said, reddening. She bolted down the stairs. "Mum! John's teasing me again!"

I follow her down the stairs. I see Harry clinging to mum, glaring at me.

"John, did you tease your sister?" She said sternly.

I looked down, digging my toe of my brand-new dress shoes into the soft carpet. "Yes mum," I say softly.

"And what did you call her?"

I looked up into my mum's face; her eyes seeming to bore into mine.

"A fat monkey." I looked down again.

"John Hamish Watson. You will apologize to Harriet. Go on." I walked hesitantly over to Harry; her glares could melt ice. I mumbled

"Sorry."

My mother patted me on the back. "Good." She walked over to the closet to get her best coat. "We are leaving now, and when we get to the funeral, I expect BOTH of you to be on your best behaviour." She looked at both of us in turn. "Is that understood?"

"Yes mum," we said together.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Chapter Two: The Meeting**_

Mother finally stops hugging me only to return to the red-haired lady. A man is with her now. He is wearing a suit that looked too small for him. He has short, brown hair that stuck out of his head. He has a rather large nose. He has his arm around her, just like the blonde woman had earlier. My mother put her hand on my shoulder and said to me in a low voice: "Those two people are good friends of ours, Sherlock."

I ask, "Who are they, mother?"

She pushes me towards them. "Why don't you introduce yourself?"

I walk over slowly, not sure what to say. The man catches my eye, and waves me over. "Hello Sherlock," he says. He kneels down to look me in the eye. "Do you know why you're here?"

I nod my head. "It's because someone died, isn't it?"

He nods. "Yes, that's right. But do you know who?"

I shook my head. "No, my mother wouldn't tell me. She just kept saying that he was a 'good man'.

The man stood up then, a vacant look in his eyes. "Well, your mother was right. He was a good man. A great man, even." He looked back down at me. "My name is Rory. Rory Pond." He grasped the hand of the red-haired woman. "And this is my wife, Amy." She smiled at me, sniffling.

"Nice to meet you properly, Sherlock. I've heard so much about you." She patted me on the head.

I winced. I HATE when grownups do that to me. It makes me feel like a child. I turn away then, saying politely: "It was nice meeting you." I walk back over to my mother.

"Ah, Sherlock, there you are. Did you introduce yourself nicely to Mr. and Mrs. Pond?"

I nodded. "They seem like nice people. Do they have any children?"

My mother shook her head. "No, I don't think so. I think Amelia can't have any, poor woman." She turned away then, greeting another woman by the door. She was tall and slender, with a red of hair as Mrs. Pond. Trailing her was a boy, a little bit older than me, and a girl that looked exactly like her mother. The boy intrigued me; he was tugging at his bowtie, like it bothered him. He had blonde hair and blue eyes, and his suit was a bit too big for him. He caught my eye, smiling at me. He walked over and stuck out his hand.

"I'm John. John Watson. I just moved here from Wales." I hesitated; not sure if he was just being nice because his mother told him to or whether he was doing it out of his own free will. The little girl came over then, standing next to her brother.

"And I'm Harry. I'm nine. How old are you?" She cocked her head to the side; her blue eyes staring at my green ones. "My brother's ten."

"I'm eight. My name is Sherlock. Sherlock Holmes." I shook John's hand. "I have a sibling too." I pointed in the general direction of my brother. "Mycroft. He's fifteen and thinks he's an adult."

John laughed. "Don't all big kids think that?" He grasped his sister's hand. "Come on Harry, mum's waiting for us." He waved back over his shoulder at me. "Nice to meet you, Sherlock."

* * *

><p>My mum stopped the car in the parking lot. "Now, remember what I said. Be on your best behaviour."<p>

"Yes mum," we said together.

We got out, trailing our mother. When we got to the door, another woman was standing there. She was tall and slender, her black hair covered up by a big, wide-brimmed hat. She talked to my mother, hugging her and kissing her on both cheeks. The woman noticed Harry and I then, and said: "I have two children of my own." She smiled and invited us in. We walked in through the door, and I saw a lot of people. The most people I have ever seen in my whole life. My bowtie was itchy; I tried to tug at it despite the disapproving glare from my mum. I noticed a boy then, talking to a woman and man. He then turned into the direction of the woman that invited us in; I think she might be his mother. He turned and caught my eye, and I smiled at him, to show I was friendly. I walked over to him, trailed by Harry. I walked over and stuck out my hand. "I'm John. John Watson. I just moved here from Wales." The boy was wary for a moment; probably wondering if he should take my hand. Harry came over then, and stood next to me.

"And I'm Harry. I'm nine. How old are you?" She cocked her head to the side; a common occurrence when talking. "My brother's ten."

The boy spoke. "My name is Sherlock. Sherlock Holmes." He finally shook my hand. "I have a sibling too," he said, and waved his hand in the general direction. I turned and looked, and I could see an older boy talking to all of the older men in the center of the room. "Mycroft. He's fifteen and thinks he's an adult."

I laughed. "Don't all big kids think that?" I heard my mother calling me. "Come on, Harry. Mum wants us." I grabbed Harry's hand; and waved over my shoulder. "Nice to meet you, Sherlock."


	3. Chapter 3

_**Chapter Three: The Plan**_

Later, after the funeral service was over, I asked my mother if I could go and play with the other kids outside on the football field.

"No, Sherlock. I don't want you to get your clothes dirty." She patted me on the head.

"But mother! All the other kids' mothers let them!" I say indignantly. "John's going to be there."

"Hm... I suppose, if John's mother will let him, then you may go." She ruffled my hair. "Just be careful, alright?"

I nod and turn away then; nearly bumping into a little girl in a black dress with lace frills. "Oh. Hello, Molly."

She was avoiding eye contact; twirling the hem of her dress in her fingers. "Hello Sherlock." She said softly. "Are you going outside?"

I nod. "Yes, I am. Are you?"

"No, I don't think so. My dad says I can't get my dress all dirty. He'll be ever so cross if I do." She looked down again; shuffling her shiny black shoes on the floor. "But it looks like fun, though."

Just then, John came up behind me. "Hey Sherlock! Are you going out to the field?"

"Yes. I promised my mother I wouldn't try to get dirty."

John laughed. "But getting dirty is all part of the fun!" He noticed Molly now. "Oh! Sherlock, is this one of your friends?"

I hesitated; I didn't really consider her a friend; I just talked to her when I was bored, and when there was nothing better to do.

"Yes, yes we're friends." Molly said. She lifted her eyes only briefly from the floor to look at John. "My name's Molly."

"Well, Molly. D'you want to come outside with us?" He paused eagerly. "It'll be fun!" He paused again. "My name's John, by the way." He pointed to his sister across the room. "And that girl over there; she's my sister, Harry. She's coming outside too. I'll bet you can play with her if you want."

Molly hesitated; twirling her dress hem harder now. "I…I don't know…"

John tugged her arm. "Oh, come on. Don't be such a spoil sport." He grabbed my hand and called for Harry before dragging us out into the bright sunlight.

* * *

><p>"Please, Mum? All the other kid's parents will let them!" I say, tugging on her sleeve.<p>

"Please, John. I expect that kind of behaviour from your sister, but certainly not you." She yanks her arm away from me; brushing herself off. "That's the only pair of dress trousers you own. I DON'T want them soiled." She gives me a stern look. "Is that understood?"

I nod. "Yes, mum." I lean on my tiptoes to kiss her on the cheek. "Thank you."

She smiled. "You're welcome, dear." I take off then, as my mother yells: "But could you please take Harry with you?"

I stop dead in my tracks and groan. "But Mum, she'll ruin everything! She always does!"

"Now, John. I'm sure that's not the case."

I sigh. "Fine, mum." I turn away again; spotting Sherlock. I run over to him and say: "Hey, Sherlock! Are you going out to the field?"

"Yes. I promised my mother I wouldn't try to get dirty."

"But getting dirty is all part of the fun!" I say, laughing. I notice a girl standing in front of him, twirling her dress in her fingers and shuffling her shoes on the carpet. "Oh! Sherlock, is this one of your friends?"

He hesitated; giving a sideways glance at the girl.

"Yes, yes we're friends." The girl said; finally looking up to meet my eyes. They were a pretty blue. "My name's Molly."

"Well, Molly. D'you want to come outside with us?" I paused, looking from Sherlock to Molly. "It'll be fun!" I looked at Molly again. "My name's John, by the way." I turn and find Harry, then point to her. "And that girl over there; she's my sister, Harry. She's coming outside with us too. I'll bet you can play with her if you want."

Molly hesitated; twirling her dress in her fingers again. "I…I don't know…"

I tug at her arm. "Oh, come on. Don't be such a spoilsport." I grabbed Sherlock's hand and called for Harry before tugging my two new friends behind me into the bright sunlight.


End file.
